


New Pointe of View

by Mansaeboysbe



Category: ASTRO (Band), K-pop
Genre: F/M, Fluff, dance au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mansaeboysbe/pseuds/Mansaeboysbe
Summary: Rocky’s more than just your dance partner for the upcoming show. (Dance Academy!AU)





	New Pointe of View

**Author's Note:**

> -Admin Bee

“And… hold!”

You’re going to kill this director.

Shuffling to keep your balance on raised feet, you feel the hands around your waist tighten their hold. You don’t dare move an inch despite the ache in your tensed muscles, knowing the wrath of the choreographer if you fell out of your pose to be far worse than an insistent twitch. Rocky coughs quietly and you allow your eyes to flit down to his face, turned up to you.

“So, how’s your day?”

You glance at the director who’s still working on repositioning partners in the current formation, “I feel like I’ve been awake for six years.”

Rehearsal had been going on for five hours and you felt completely dead. Not only were your feet aching from twelve hour rehearsals every day this week, but this director insisted on everything being picture perfect and if anyone was one centimeter too far to the right, he called to hold on the choreography and you were forced to remain in whatever position you’d paused in, no matter how compromising.

“Tell me about it,” Rocky mumbles and you glance down again, “I have a history test I should be studying for.”

“At least you get two feet on the ground.”

He shrugs and the director finally moves back to his seat at the table, the choreographer counting off before starting the music again. An audible sigh of relief escapes your lungs when you’re out of releve, and you’re almost grateful for the complex pas de bourree jump combination that comes next. Soon enough, however, the director calls hold again right as you’re halfway to a full penche. And of course, Rocky, being the ever perfect dance partner he is, already has a hold of your leg.

“What were you saying about two feet on the ground?”

Your face is turned away from him in the choreography but you hope he can see the profile of your frown.

“Lucky ballerinos, getting the easy moves,” you grumble. He must have heard it because he begins to lift his hands, and you feel the pull in your hamstring, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, stop.”

“It’s not easy.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

He eases up on your leg and you pout, cursing his current control in the dance. You only have a minute left in the music and you pray the director at least lets you get as far as the boy’s solo section, where you can get a chance to rest in third position before the finale.

“Y/N! Rocky!” The choreographer barks and you feel the heat burn in your cheeks, “Focus and keep your positions!”

“Yes, sir,” you both reply, and Rocky lets you fall back into the original angle your leg was at.

The director is finally satisfied with the formation again and the dance resumes with a countdown as usual. Thankfully he lets the dance finish this time, and he even gives a few satisfied claps as the music automatically restarts. He starts giving some notes before the lunch break and you’re stuck in the ending position of a shoulder sit while he drones on for a few minutes. Rocky’s strong and you trust him not to drop you, but you still can’t help and sharply intake air everytime he pretends to drop his shoulder. You get revenge by digging your heel into the space beneath his ribs.

The director calls break and Rocky tightens his arm around your waist in preparation for you to get down. With his help you turn around and slide off his shoulder, your feet hitting the floor with a soft thump.

“You were great.”

You feel yourself begin to blush at his comment, becoming all too aware that your hands are still wrapped around his shoulders and you’re nearly chest to chest. The alarm bells go off in your head when he begins to smirk, that once again he has the upper hand. You duck your head to get away from his gaze and find your rebuttal there.

“Your feet are sickled.”

Rocky joins you in looking down at the floor. Sure enough, his left foot is turned at an awkward angle to the side.

“Wow, way to hurt my pride like that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you shrug, nudging his foot into proper position with your own as you pull away. You put a gracious amount of space between the two of you and look around at everyone else who is starting to gather their lunch boxes and head out to eat with their friends. As for yourself, you take a seat at the edge of the stage and begin untying your shoes.

Rocky comes to sit next to you when one shoe is off and you begin working on the other. The choreographer comes up shortly after.

“Good work today, but please try to focus after lunch. I shouldn’t have to tell our two lead dancers to pay attention, it sets a bad example for the other students.” His eyes dart between the two of you, shooting a glare as cold as ice and you nearly shiver under his gaze.

“Yes sir,” you say in tandem without hesitation.

The choreographer nods in acceptance and he’s about to go to lunch when Rocky pipes up.

“May Y/N and I use the stage for a few more minutes? We’d like to go over the beginning because someone-” you anticipate the elbow coming for you and hit him first, “-ow, keeps falling over.”

Keeping your elbow lodged into his side, you press in harder with a sweet smile, “I wouldn’t fall if you held me up like you’re supposed to”

“You’re supposed to be strong on your own,” Rocky sneers and manages to push you off of him.

“Touche.”

“That should be fine…” the choreographer trails off, looking somewhat worried, “Rehearsal resumes at one so be ready to go again.” He gathers up his things and begins walking up the aisle, waving to you as he goes, “Have fun, don’t kill each other!”

“No promises,” you mutter, moving to lace up your shoes again. Rocky waits ever so patiently while you take your sweet time getting the slipper back on, crossing his arms and stretching in place until finally, you’re back on your feet and in the middle of the stage to start the dance.

“Alright,” he sighs, taking his place behind you, “five, six, seven-”

“Wait,” you turn to look at him, “You’re supposed to start from one.”

His eyes widen in an incredulous look, “Does it really matter?”

“You can’t just expect me to go in four counts.”

“The first step is standing in place, are you really going to have that much trouble?”

You turn back to the front, “Yes, so start from one.”

There’s another sigh and he’s starting over again, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

The music is playing mentally as you raise your arms above your head, bending your knee into a passe and leaning to the side to extend one arm back towards him. He takes your hand and helps you pirouette, properly this time so you don’t fall over like before. It’s not like you weren’t skilled in the turn, you just had a sneaking suspicion Rocky purposely threw you off balance during the move. You move apart when you step out of the turn, sweeping in semicircles across the stage before stopping to face one another.

The next part is where your solo ends, but Rocky appears to be preparing the next step. So, you go along with it. That is until you can see the small signs of a smile pricking the edges of his lips.

“Please be serious if we’re going to keep going.”

“I am, I am,” he insists. You don’t fully believe him but he’s counting off again, closing the window of opportunity.

It’s within the next three steps you take towards him that you realize he’s not holding up his end of the deal. But it’s too late, you’re already within the proximity of his arms coming to wrap around your waist and lift you into the air, something far less professional from the move you were supposed to be doing.

“Minhyuk!” you squeal, pressing down on his shoulders as he continues to spin. His laughter echoes off the walls of the empty auditorium and your resolve crumbles when you feel giggles of your own bubbling from your chest. He only stops spinning once you’re clinging to him for balance.

You stay clutched against him even after he sets you down, muttering, “You’re the worst.”

All you get in return is, “Hold on.”

Suddenly, you feel him leaning forward and loosening his arms, effectively letting you drop slightly in a dip. Once again you wrap your hands around the back of his neck for dear life, which in return, brings his lips down to meet your cheek.

He’s grinning when he leans back and you weakly scoff in return, betrayed by the burn in your entire face.

“You totally planned that.”

“Hmm, maybe I did.”

The sound of a bag hitting the floor startles both of you, and in quick instinct, Rocky almost lets you fall the rest of the way to the stage. Luckily for you, a quicker instinct takes over and instead, he pulls you up and holds you against his chest.

When you look over, one of the other dancers, Moonbin, is standing at the top of the aisle, eyes bulging and his chin practically on the floor.

“Uhh…” is all he gets out before you cut him off.

“It’s not what it looks like.” It probably would have been a great excuse if the two of you weren’t practically clinging to each other like koalas.

Moonbin stops gaping for long enough to pick his dropped bag up from the floor and begin walking the rest of the way to the stage.

He arrives at the edge of the stage and leans his forearms onto the platform, “It looks like you’re pretending to be rivals but in reality, you’re actually dating.”

Meanwhile, you tilt your head down at him and shrug, “Half true.” Both boys give you a questioning look, “We are rivals.”

“Well, we were,” Rocky adds, sliding his hands down so they rest at the small of your back, “We started out as rivals in beginner’s classes but over the years it sort of switched to… this, I guess.”

“I can still do more pirouettes than you.”

“I know,” he just smiles in return and kisses your cheek. You begin to wonder if he’s figured out this to be the surefire method to get you to shut up.

“Whatever.” you mumble, letting him go to sit in front of Moonbin and start removing your dance slippers for the second time, “What did you come back in for anyway?”

He holds up the bag on his shoulder, “Took the wrong bag out with me. But had I known the two of you were going to be in here being gross, I would have settled with eating my jacket instead of my lunch.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Rocky chuckles, taking a seat next to you.

“Dunno, you guys are next level. I’m still recovering from the Rom Com scene I walked in on.”

Rocky reaches over and hits Bin on the shoulder, though it’s not hard enough to be mean, and they both laugh as Moonbin goes back to his seat to exchange his clothes for his food.

“You guys are just lucky it was me who walked in and not Heesung. If he found out the two of you were dating, you’d never get paired up with anyone else again.”

“True,” you wince, sliding off of the stage to go back to your bag, “Rocky, I love you, but you’re a pain to be partnered with.”

“Wow. Thanks, Y/N,” he deadpans, “You’re really great to work with too.”

“It’s like I’m not even here,” Moonbin mutters, watching you chuck a shoe in the other boy’s direction, “C’mon, I wanna go eat.”  
You shoulder your bag and take the hand Rocky has extended toward you, even if it’s just for the short walk to the auditorium doors. He pulls you in and you go with it, letting him spin you under his arm so in the end it was draped over your shoulders, something you’d never admit was a thousand times more smooth than the classic “pretend-to-yawn” move.

Moonbin somehow makes it through the disgustingly cheesy display and continues, “Everyone ships you guys together anyway, why do you keep it hidden?”

Rocky answers for you, “It makes being paired up more interesting.”

“It’s boring if we’re the lead dancers AND together,” you shrug under his arm, “That would be way too cliche.”

“That’s… exactly what it is though.”

“Shut up.” The three of you stop at the top of the aisle right in front of the doors. Rocky, unfortunately, has to let go and you hide pouting by looking to the floor again, “Your feet are still sickled.”

“This is how I normally stand.”

“Well, it’s… bad.”

Rocky overcompensates by dramatically going into second position.

“Is she always like this?” Moonbin asks, glancing down at his own feet to check if you’re going to come after him as well.

“Yeah, it’s really annoying.”

“I hate you,” you quip, reaching for the door.

“Love you too,” Rocky grins, “Oh, and Y/N?” When you look over, he points down to the floor.

“Your feet are sickled too.”


End file.
